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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27842215">Of Sunlight and Shooting Stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguous_sanskars/pseuds/ambiguous_sanskars'>ambiguous_sanskars</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Found Family, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Kissing, M/M, No Smut, author learned way too much about raising ducklings, background andy/quynh, because it accidentally imprinted on Nicky, post-canon where Quynh doesn't turn evil, the story of how Joe and Nicky adopted a duckling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:09:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27842215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguous_sanskars/pseuds/ambiguous_sanskars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>That was how, ten minutes later, Joe walked in on Nicky standing at the kitchen table, slicing green grapes in half as a very energetic duckling devoured them happily. Joe felt his lips curl up into a hopelessly wide smile.</p><p>“When Andy told me you had a surprise for me, this is not what I expected.”</p><p>In which Joe and Nicky raise a duckling together during their time off. They're great parents and the ducking is very cute, and absolutely nothing sad or angsty happens because we all deserve some undiluted serotonin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>211</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Sunlight and Shooting Stars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello I'm back with more TOG fluff! I'm particularly proud of how this one turned out, so hope y'all enjoy :)</p><p>This fic is inspired by this Tumblr post by @silly-old-guard-aus: <br/>https://silly-old-guard-aus.tumblr.com/post/632080860408119296</p><p>Translations:<br/>Ehi (Italian) - hey<br/>Piccolo mio (Italian) - little one<br/>Nicolina (Italian) - Nicolò + -<em>ina</em>, a suffix that means "small" (so basically, mini Nicky)<br/>Grazie mille (Italian) - thank you so much<br/>Preziosa (Italian) - precious<br/>Wallahi (Arabic) - I swear to God<br/>Mashallah (Arabic) - literally means "what God has willed"; used to show appreciation, joy, praise, or thankfulness for an event or person</p><p>I guess CW for a part near the end where Joe and Nicky wear dresses for the duckling's birthday? I for one am a strong believer in people wearing whatever the fuck they want, because gendering clothing is not nice and men should get to wear dresses without people being weird about it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How are they?” Joe asked, smiling softly as he held the phone to his ear.</p><p>On the other end, Booker ran a hand through his hair fretfully. “I don’t know them like you do, obviously. But I- ah, I don’t know, this might be presumptuous of me. But I think they’re gonna be alright.”</p><p>“You know Andy well.”</p><p>“Yeah, but not Quynh. This is my first time meeting Quynh.”</p><p>“How did she react?”</p><p>“She didn’t cry in front of me. Didn’t even yell. Andy broke down instantly, but not Quynh. I told her Andy was mortal now, and then I left. I thought maybe it would be easier for them to be vulnerable with each other if I wasn’t around. Do you think Andy will be safe?”</p><p>“Yes. She is always safe with Quynh.”</p><p>“But Quynh was so angry.”</p><p>“She has every right to be angry. Even though it is not Andy’s fault. Andy knows this. Their love is many millennia old, Booker. These past 500 years will not break them.”</p><p>Booker grunted noncommittally. “I’m going to go back. Just to check on Andy. I’ll sleep in a motel if they want to be alone.”</p><p>“Alright. Text me, okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, of course. How’s everything over there?”</p><p>Joe looked over at the couch. Nicky was reclining in the corner spot, watching with rapt attention what Nile had called “one of the best episodes of <em>Queer Eye</em> ever” on their laptop. Nile was curled into a ball at his side. A cool draft snuck in through the cracked window, and Nicky adjusted the plush throw that was draped over them both. Nile sighed contentedly, snuggling closer for warmth.</p><p>“Good,” Joe replied, voice suddenly soft. “Everything’s really good here. You don’t have to worry about us.”</p><p>“Do you all need anything from Paris?”</p><p>“Not that I can think of right now. But I’ll let you know.”</p><p>“Okay. Okay, sounds good.”</p><p>“Sebastian.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Take care of yourself, okay? They’ll both be alright. Don’t sweat it.”</p><p>There was a pause. Then Booker sighed. “Yeah, okay. I’ll relax.”</p><p>“Good. Text me when you figure out where you’re sleeping tonight.”</p><p>“For sure. Thanks, Joe. Good night.”</p><p>“Good night.”</p><p>Joe left his phone on the counter and crossed over to the living room. He sat down on the carpet in front of Nicky, tilting his head back to rest it against Nicky’s knees. Nicky smiled, reaching down to run a hand through Joe’s hair. He wrapped a few curls around his fingers, tugging ever so gently before letting go. He shifted his hand a few centimeters and repeated the act.</p><p>“Come up here?”</p><p>Joe shook his head, practically melting under Nicky’s loving ministrations. The floor was especially comfy when it was closer to Nicky. “I love you,” Joe mumbled, as instinctively as exhaling. After a moment, he frowned. “I love you, too, Nile.” Nicky laughed, and Joe could almost feel Nile roll her eyes.</p><p>The episode ended with Tan France demonstrating how to do a French tuck, and Nicky wondered aloud if the technique would work just as well with his highlighter-green shorts. Joe, despite knowing full well that Nicky was trying to provoke him, promptly went off on a well-rehearsed tirade about the detriments of wearing a dress shirt with basketball shorts.</p><p>“Nile, back me up here!”</p><p>“You’re right. He’s right, Nicky. Why would you even suggest such a thing?”</p><p>“You two can’t stop me,” Nicky argued, just to be contrary.</p><p>“At least it won’t be as bad as that time you wore only yellow for two months,” Joe said resignedly.</p><p>“Yellow?” Nile asked.</p><p>“Yes, he insisted it would make the duckling feel more at home.”</p><p>“Duckling?!”</p><p>Nicky clicked his tongue impatiently. “I wore various styles and shades of yellow, from pressed goldenrod shirts to an actual pastel canary dress. He has no right to complain about my lack of versatility.”</p><p>“The duckling liked me better, and I just dressed like usual.”</p><p>“She didn’t like you better. You always kept blueberries on you to bribe her with.”</p><p>Wait,” Nile interjected. “We need to backtrack. When and why did you guys have a duckling?”</p><p>Joe gave Nicky a pointed look that did nothing to hide the mirth in his eyes. Nicky sighed around a smile.</p><p>“It was an accident.”<br/>
___</p><p>“Nicky, stop moping. Booker, get up from the floor. Enough is enough,” Andy said, far more gently that her words implied. She prodded a very drunk, very anxious Booker with her foot. “Book, have you eaten at all today?”</p><p>“He hasn’t,” Nicky muttered from the kitchen counter. “But neither have you, boss. You’re telling us to get it together, but you’re equally antsy about this whole thing. Don’t deny it.”</p><p>Andy sighed in frustration. “I wasn’t going to. It was a bad call on my part. I shouldn’t have sent Joe alone.”</p><p>“It was a one-man job. You said so yourself. And he <em>did</em> have the best-suited skill set out of all of us. I think, tactically speaking, you made the right decision.”</p><p>“But you’re still upset about it, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Look, boss, just because it’s a one-man job doesn’t mean said one man wouldn’t prefer company. And it would be safer to have someone along.”</p><p>“It would have been a lot of extra work for Booker, security-wise. You know that.”</p><p>“Noooo, I din’ miiind,” Booker slurred from where he was curled up on the rug. He made a valiant effort to prop himself up on an elbow before collapsing back down with a thud.</p><p>Nicky put his head in his hands. “He was supposed to be back today, right?” he whispered into his palms.</p><p>“He’ll be back. He’s fine. I know he’s fine.” Andy paced back and forth restlessly. “We just need to get out of our own heads for a bit. Be a little patient. Joe will be fine.”</p><p>The stool scraped noisily against the kitchen floor as Nicky got to his feet. “I’m going to go for a walk and not think about anything for half and hour. I’ll bring takeout on my way back. Is that alright?”</p><p>“Yeah, solid plan. I’ll drag Booker to bed and try to get him fully conscious by the time you’re back.”</p><p>“Sober?”</p><p>Andy chuckled. “Don’t get too ambitious.”</p><p>Twenty minutes later, Nicky was sitting on a park bench, forlornly looking out over a pond as the sun set behind him. He’d already called a nearby Indo-Pakistani restaurant and ordered one plate each of everyone’s favorite biryani to-go, including Joe’s. Joe had to come back tonight. He had to.</p><p>Nicky shook his head in frustration. He was doing a very poor job of thinking about nothing. Suddenly, a tiny movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He  turned his head, squinting at the reeds growing on the pond bank. </p><p>The reeds rustled ominously. Nicky was just contemplating his chances of outrunning a rabid racoon, or alternatively, how long it would take him to heal from death by racoon, when the rustling stopped. Then, with a piteous squawk, a small ball of yellow fluff popped out onto the footpath.</p><p>Nicky stared in surprise. The poor little thing had landed on its back, its orange, webbed feet flailing in the air. It didn’t seem to be able to turn itself upright. Cautiously, Nicky approached the creature and very gently scooped it up. It gawked at him with wide, frightened eyes, and he heard himself mumbling soothing reassurances as he set it back on its feet. It stumbled half a meter and fell into the pond with a splash.</p><p>Nicky almost jumped to rescue it, before remembering that it was a duck and probably did not need to be rescued from the water. Was this one old enough to swim on its own? At what age did ducklings learn to swim, anyway?</p><p>The baby animal splashed around happily in front of him, clearly not drowning. Still, Nicky decided to stay for a few minutes, just to make sure it would be okay. He looked around. The mother duck and her other babies had to be around here, somewhere.</p><p>Eventually, his phone pinged with a message from the restaurant, letting him know his order was ready to be picked up. He was startled to find that it had been over forty-five minutes since he’d left the safehouse. If he didn’t get back soon, Andy and Booker might start to worry. </p><p>Nicky looked wistfully at the duckling. “Off you go, little one. Go home to your family. I’ll go home to mine.” The duckling blinked up at him quizzically. “I’ll come visit you tomorrow, if you want,” Nicky tried. “In fact, I’ll bring Joe with me. You’ll love him. He’s the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. A ray of pure sunshine, just like you.”</p><p>As he spoke, he unconsciously reached out a hand to the duckling. To his utter shock, the creature hopped right up onto his palm and settled down.</p><p>“No, you can’t come with me,” he cajoled. “You belong here. In the water. Come on, in you go.” Reluctantly, it leapt back into the water, but made no move to swim away. Nicky pursed his lips, thinking hard. Maybe if he just got up and walked off, the duckling would go back to its family. He figured it was worth a shot.</p><p>Nicky got to his feet and turned around. He’d taken only two steps away from the pond when he heard a frantic splash behind him, followed by the soft <em>thwack, thwack, thwack</em>, of webbed feet on concrete. He whirled around.</p><p>“No, you have to go back to your pond!” he whispered urgently. The duckling tilted its head. “The pond!” Nicky gestured dramatically toward the fading light on the surface of the water. “You know, your home.”</p><p>Nicky sighed. He would just have to walk away as fast as possible. There was no way this baby duck could keep up; it would have no choice but to go back to its family. The thought made his heart break a little, but he had no other option. Taking a deep breath, he began to stride away purposefully. </p><p>In a matter of seconds, a series of tiny, woeful quacks stopped him in his tracks. He turned to find the duckling flopped over onto its stomach, crying.</p><p>“<em>Ehi, no, piccolo mio,</em>” Nicky exclaimed, rushing forward to gather the poor thing in his arms. He unbuttoned the top of his coat and held the duckling against his chest to warm it up. “Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s alright.” </p><p>He looked back towards the pond. There wasn’t one single other duck in sight. He looked down at the duckling, trembling weakly in his jacket as it calmed down. He sighed. Andy was going to throw a fit.</p><p>“Looks like you’re coming with me, little one.”</p><p>Nicky managed to smuggle the duckling in and out of the restaurant without anyone noticing. As he picked up the warm takeout boxes, the duckling poked its head out of his jacket to investigate this new source of warmth. By the time Nicky reached the safehouse, he was carrying four boxes of biryani stacked one on the other like a Christmas tree, with a sleeping ball of fluff on top where the angel would go.	</p><p>Before he could even knock, the door flew open and Andy shoved her cellphone in his face.</p><p>“Look, it’s a message from Joe! He says his flight got delayed, but he’ll be here tomorrow morning!”</p><p>Nicky almost dropped their dinner (and the duckling) in his haste to grab the phone. Beneath the update, Joe had sent a selfie of himself at the airport terminal, captioned with a cheery “See, boss? I’m fine!” and a couple heart emojis. Looking at his beloved husband’s radiant smile, Nicky felt his eyes mist over involuntarily.</p><p>“There’s a duckling sleeping on my biryani.”</p><p>Nicky and Andy turned around. Booker, who must have maneuvered the takeout from Nicky’s hands while he’d been distracted by Joe, frowned dubiously at the stack of boxes. </p><p>“Do you see it, too, Andy? Or did I just drink way too much earlier?”</p><p>“Both,” Andy replied without missing a beat. “Nicky, why is there a duckling-”</p><p>“It followed me,” Nicky blurted out. “I was sitting by the pond and it fell out of the reeds right in front of me. After that, it just kept hanging out nearby. When I tried to put it by the pond and go, it started crying. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just leave it!”</p><p>“Okay, but what if its mother is looking for it?”</p><p>“I really, really tried to find the mom. But there wasn’t one other duck in that entire pond. I have no clue where this guy came from.” Nicky spread his hands helplessly.</p><p>Just then, the duckling woke up. For a frantic second, everyone held their breath as it flailed around, threatening to topple from the stack of boxes. But the moment it saw Nicky, it sat back down, contentedly preening its downy feathers.</p><p>“Oh my god,” Booker said incredulously. “Nicky, I think it imprinted on you.”</p><p>“What?” Nicky demanded.</p><p>“Oh, no way,” Andy countered. “Ducklings are supposed to imprint on their mother ducks. Nicky isn’t even the same species.”</p><p>“Yeah, but ducklings have been known to imprint on other animals, including humans,” Booker continued. “Especially if the mother is absent during the baby’s first few days for whatever reason, it will imprint on whoever it can find. Nicky, looks like you adopted a duckling. Or it adopted you. Good luck.”</p><p>“Oh no,” Nicky fretted. “I can’t raise a baby all by myself. Where is Joe, I need a co-parent! Andy, can I have some time off? Maybe, uh, a few weeks? Oh no, I don’t even know how long it takes for a duckling to grow up. I don’t know anything about ducklings. Booker, can you print out the Wikipedia page on ducklings for me?”</p><p>“Relax, Nicky,” Andy chided. “You’ve raised chicks before. How different can this really be?”</p><p>“8-12 weeks,” Booker read out from his laptop. “Nicky and Joe are going to need 8-12 weeks off to raise this duckling to full maturity. After that, they can reintroduce it to the pond.”</p><p>Andy sighed. “Fine. You two were gonna have time off anyway, since I have business in Portugal and Booker’s going to Germany because he scored tickets to the World Cup.”</p><p>“Oh, Joe didn’t want to come?” Nicky asked.</p><p>“I only managed to get one ticket,” Booker admitted. “I offered to let Joe go instead of me, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Said maybe next time, if we get more tickets.”</p><p>“Oh. I guess that works out then.”</p><p>“For the record,” Andy said as she extracted her box from beneath the duckling, “this is absolutely ridiculous. Only you, Nicky, would go out for a walk to ‘clear your head,’ and come back with a real live orphan duckling.”</p><p>In the end, it was a good thing they were in Genoa, because Nicky had maintained his ties to the port city over the centuries and, in a matter of hours, was able to take out a lease for a small cottage closer to the pond. After dinner, Booker and Andy helped him shift his and Joe’s belongings, as well as some meager furniture, into the new place.</p><p>“I think I’ll stay the night,” Nicky decided as they finished up. “The duckling is already asleep on my jacket, and I don’t want to jostle it in the process of moving back to the safehouse.”</p><p>“Sounds good,” Andy said around a yawn. “We’ll send Joe over as soon as he drops off the mission file. Come on, Book. Time to go.” There was no response. “Booker?”</p><p>Booker tip-toed out of the room where the duckling was sleeping, waving his laptop around triumphantly. “She’s a baby pekin. That’s the species. Also she’s a she, in case you were wondering. See this faded eyeline?” He pointed to a picture on the laptop. “That’s how you can tell.”</p><p>“A she,” Andy grunted approvingly. “What are you going to name her, Nicky?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I’ll ask Joe tomorrow. He’ll come up with something pretty and meaningful.”</p><p>“Your laptop was dead, Nicky, so I plugged it in to charge,” Booker said, shoving his own laptop into a bag. “You’re gonna be doing a lot of googling, I think.”</p><p>“Thank you, Booker.”</p><p>“Mhm. Andy, let’s go? If I fall asleep before we make it back, you’ll have to carry me the rest of the way.”</p><p>“I’ll leave you on the footpath.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t!”</p><p>“I might. Let’s go. ‘Night, Nicky.”</p><p>“Goodnight, you both. Safe travels, in case I don’t see you before your flights.”</p><p>The next morning, Nicky woke up to webbed feet padding determinedly across his chest. He opened his eyes to see beady black eyes staring down into his soul, and very nearly had a heart attack.</p><p>“<em>Madre de dio!</em>” he yelped, sitting up sharply. He managed to gather his bearings and catch the little ball of yellow fluff before it tumbled off the bed. “<em>Piccolo mio</em>, you can’t just do that!”</p><p>The duck let out several loud, indignant squawks, stomping around in his lap. Nicky furrowed his brow.</p><p>“Are you…yelling at me?” </p><p>The squawking and stomping continued.</p><p>“Oh,” Nicky surmised. “Maybe you’re hungry. Babies usually cry when they’re hungry. Is that right, <em>preziosa</em>? Shall we find you something to eat?”</p><p>Nicky doubted the duckling understood any of what he was saying, but she responded to his tone, nuzzling her tiny beak into his hand. He took that as a yes. Nicky climbed out of bed with a yawn, stretching thoughtfully as he walked over to the clothing trunk to get dressed.</p><p>That was how, ten minutes later, Joe walked in on Nicky standing at the kitchen table in yellow sleeping shorts and a yellow t-shirt, slicing green grapes in half as a very energetic duckling devoured them happily. Joe felt his lips curl up into a hopelessly wide smile.</p><p>“When Andy told me you had a surprise for me, this is not what I expected.”</p><p>Nicky dropped the knife and whirled around, practically throwing himself across the kitchen in his haste to wrap Joe up in his arms. Joe gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. He clung to Nicky, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in. God, how he had missed him. Finally - <em>finally</em> - Joe felt like he was home.</p><p>After a few moments, Nicky pulled back, eyes shining as he cupped Joe’s face in his hands. “You stink,” he accused, before kissing him soundly. Joe’s protests died in his throat, and he grinned into the kiss, feeling full to the brim with happiness. He marveled quietly at his husband’s ability to make 900 years seem like the blink of an eye. Perhaps his body had stopped aging centuries ago, but it was only in his Nicolò’s arms that Joe still felt 31.</p><p>Eventually, a series of tentative chirps interrupted them, and they broke apart, laughing.</p><p>“Aww, <em>amore mio</em>, how rude! You haven’t introduced us yet,” Joe quipped, gesturing between himself and the duckling.</p><p>“Ah,” Nicky smiles sheepishly. “Joe, this is…a duckling. Duckling, this is Joe - remember the one I was telling you about by the pond? The one with a smile like sunshine, sweetest person you’ll ever meet?”</p><p>Nicky turned, and Joe kissed him again, impossibly more in love than he’d ever been in his life. The idea of his husband waxing poetic about him to ducklings in a pond was just too adorable to bear.</p><p>Later that afternoon, after Joe’s valiant but fruitless attempt to potty train the duckling and Nicky’s stoic re-sanitation of their patio threshold, they decided to swaddle the drowsy baby in a soft washcloth and watch a movie together while she napped. They sat on the loveseat Andy and Booker had carried in last night, the duckling nestled comfortably between them. Both of them elected to watch a soppy romantic indie they’d seen a hundred times before instead of the new action flick; it was Joe’s first day back, after all, and he’d really had enough of gunfire for a very long time. Nicky couldn’t agree more.</p><p>Around halfway through, Joe leaned forward and paused the laptop. He stroked a finger gently down the sleeping duckling’s back, and then looked up at Nicky. </p><p>“Did you really not pick out a name for her yet, <em>amore</em>?”</p><p>Nicky shrugged his shoulders with a half-smile. “I figured that’s your department, no? Coming up with something melodious, beautiful. Poetic. Some worthy descriptor for this lovely little creature.” Nicky yawned. Maybe the duckling’s need for sleep was rubbing off on him. “You’re the creative one.”</p><p>Joe gasped in mock offense. “You are creative!” he whispered insistently. </p><p>Nicky laughed softly. “Yes, coming up with ways to keep you enamored for nine centuries does take creativity.”</p><p>“You could laze about on this couch for the next nine centuries and I’d still love you more than life itself.”</p><p>Joe’s retort was very matter-of-fact, but Nicky melted like sugar in a flame. Given how often his husband said things like that, he didn’t see how it was possible to be caught off guard every single time. To be stunned into speechlessness, heart alive with emotion his tongue knew no words for. It made Nicky realize what the poets meant when they compared love to a river of fire that could only be crossed by drowning.</p><p>“I know, <em>hayati</em>,” he replied at length, leaning in for a kiss. “Believe me, I know.” Nicky did not add that he felt the same, that if they never so much as left this house for another millennia, their love would only continue to grow - but Joe heard it anyway.</p><p>The next evening, Nicky finished showering and, after a moment of contemplation, opted for a mustard-yellow sweatshirt and last night’s sleeping shorts. As he walked towards the kitchen to make dinner, he decided to ask Joe to run down to the local pet store and pick up a bag or two of proper duck feed. The duckling could only be expected to eat grape halves for so long. He reached the kitchen and promptly froze in the doorway.</p><p>On the counter was a large steel basin filled with water. Inside the basin was a very happy duckling, splashing around gleefully. Next to the counter was a rather disgruntled Joe, soaking wet and trying in vain to coax the duckling into staying still long enough for him to rub a little Dawn soap onto her back.</p><p>“<em>Wallahi</em>, Nicolina, a little soap doesn’t hurt! Come on, baths are nice. You’ll like it, I promise. Would you rather smell like pond water, or, uhh…” Joe squinted at the soap bottle. “It doesn’t say what scent this is, actually. But I’m sure it’s better than pond water, don’t you think?”</p><p>“Joe, what are you doing?” Nicky laughed from the doorway.</p><p>“Nicky! Oh, thank God you’re here.” The duckling seemed to agree, chirping excitedly at Nicky as he walked towards them. “Give me a hand, <em>amore</em>. Nicolina doesn’t like soap.”</p><p>“You’re calling her Nicolina?!”</p><p>“It suits her. She’s just a miniature you, see?” Joe managed to seize the duckling and hold it up next to Nicky. “Both yellow, both don’t like soap-”</p><p>“I like soap!”</p><p>“Both like to swim,” Joe continued, ignoring Nicky and putting the duckling back into the warm water.</p><p>“And I’m only wearing yellow to make the duckling feel more…at home, you know?”</p><p>“Pekin ducks are white, Nicky.”</p><p>“Well, this one’s clearly yellow.”</p><p>“That’s because it’s a baby. Mother ducks are white.”</p><p>Nicky shook his head to clear it. He’d definitely come in here with the intention of telling Joe something else, not arguing about duck colors.</p><p>“Oh, right! Joe, I meant to ask you - could you get duckling feed from the pet store while I make something for dinner? After you’re finished bathing her, of course. That way she’ll have something nutritious to eat tonight.”</p><p>Joe nodded, and then leveled Nicky with his best poker face, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “Who will have something nutritious to eat, <em>amore</em>?”</p><p>“She will.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“The duckling, Joe.”</p><p>“Yes, but the duckling has a name, right?”</p><p>“ I am not calling her that.”</p><p>“<em>Però</em>-”</p><p>“Yusuf al-Kaysani, I swear-”</p><p>Joe put on his best puppy face. “But you said I could name her anything I want!”</p><p>“I said you could name her something beautiful and meaningful.”</p><p>“There is no name more beautiful and meaningful to me than yours, Nicolò. You asked me to find a worthy descriptor for her - and I found no better way to honor her charm and kindness than to name her after you. You stole my heart the moment I saw you, and she did the same. What can I do? It’s perfect.”</p><p>Nicky gaped at his husband. “Wha- I- You- <em>Hayati</em>! You can’t just say things like that!”</p><p>Joe gave a tiny smile, trying to hide his triumph and failing spectacularly. Nicky threw his hands up in surrender, circling around the counter to thoroughly kiss the smug look off Joe’s face.</p><p>“So the name can stay, then?” Joe asked, a little breathlessly, when Nicky pulled back.</p><p>“Don’t ask questions which you already know the answer to,” Nicky scolded, kissing him again. “Now go pick up duck feed before the pet store closes. Remember, if Nicolina doesn’t get dinner, then neither will you.”</p><p>Joe burst out laughing. He stashed the bottle of Dawn soap next to the sink, waving an alacritous finger at the duckling as he scrambled out of the kitchen. “Looks like you’re off the hook for today, little one!” Nicolina splashed and quacked enthusiastically in response. “Nicky, there’s a clean towel next to the basin to dry her off with. Can you-”</p><p>“I’ve got it, love. I’ll finish up here before starting dinner.”</p><p>“<em>Grazie mille</em>, see you in ten!” Joe called from the living room, grabbing his wallet and heading out the door. Nicky sighed, reveling in the peace of the moment, silent but for the gentle splashes and chirps of the duckling in front of him. Eventually, he picked up the towel. </p><p>“Alright, Nicolina. Let’s get you dry and warm for your nap, shall we?”</p><p>The next few weeks passed happily, with Nicolina becoming a central part of their family. She was extremely intelligent, managing to figure out potty training by the end of week two.  It took until week three to convince her that soapy baths were a good thing, but she grew to love it enough that as soon as a bubble bath was prepared, she would hop in of her own volition. Both Joe and Nicky were ecstatic. By the time week four was drawing to a close, Nicolina had even learned how to turn her heat lamp on and off by herself, by stepping on the switch. </p><p>One evening, as Nicky was walking back to the cottage after running an errand, he was struck by a thought. Tomorrow, he realized, would be the one-month anniversary of having found Nicolina by the lake. Since the duckling wouldn’t be with them for a full year, this was probably their best chance to have a first birthday celebration for her. He pulled out his phone and hit recent.</p><p>“Hello, Joe?” He paused as Joe spoke. “Yes, yes, the post office was open. It went smoothly. Yeah - I wanted to ask, can you feed Nicolina and whip something up for dinner? I just remembered a thing; I’ll have to take a bit of a detour.” On the other end, Joe grumbled something about Nicky going on impromptu shopping trips without him. “I never said I was going shopping!” Nicky laughed. “But you’re right, as usual. Tell me, <em>hayati</em>, how am I supposed to surprise you with what I buy if I take you with me?”</p><p>The next morning, Nicky snuck out of bed before either Joe or Nicolina were awake. He decorated the living room of their cottage with baby blue and yellow balloons - some hanging off the roof and walls, others rolling around lackadaisically on the floor. Then, he puttered around the kitchen for a bit, mixing batter and putting two cakes in the oven to bake: a regular one, and a special miniature one made with all duck-friendly ingredients. </p><p>Miraculously, neither of his housemates had woken up to all the ruckus he’d made in the kitchen. Nicky tip-toed back into the bedroom and quietly slid a dress box from beneath the bed. He went to the bathroom to shower and get ready.</p><p>When he’d stopped at a clothing shop the previous night, Nicky had honestly been dismayed at the lack of birthday-appropriate formal wear available for men in any color other than dark blue, black, or tan. Certainly there was nothing even approaching some semblance of duckling yellow. Nicky had sighed in frustration - he should have brought Joe along after all. Joe would have known what to do.</p><p>Nicky could almost imagine his husband’s gleeful smile. “<em>Amore</em>, try this!” he would say, gesturing to the obnoxious excuse for a suit on Nicky’s right. “Or no, wait - what about <em>this</em>?” Nicky’s gaze had snagged on a lovely light yellow dress, on display in the women’s section across the aisle. It was a simple a-line dress with short sleeves and a flowy skirt that would probably come down to a little above his knee. There was no print, only a few tiny red flowers embroidered at the hem and on one sleeve. Also, it had pockets. </p><p>In his head, Nicky imagined Joe, who would have suggested the dress as a joke, tracking Nicky’s interest and suddenly getting on his soapbox about how men can wear dresses, too, because gendering clothing is stupid and outdated, and really, it was supposed to be <em>hot</em> tomorrow, did Nicky really want to spend Nicolina’s first birthday all uncomfortable in a scratchy suit, and… </p><p>Before he could second-guess himself, Nicky took the dress off the rack. He skipped the fitting room and decided to just pray that it looked good on him instead. He’d made his purchases and been halfway across the street when he realized that he hadn’t picked one out for Joe. He’d immediately turned and started walking back, earning a confused honk from a taxi driver who had to swerve to avoid him.</p><p>That was the story of how, on the morning of Nicolina’s first-month birthday, Joe came into the living room to see his husband in a stunning pastel-yellow dress, glowing like the sun itself among a shower of blue and gold balloons, playing peek-a-boo with a delighted duckling perched on the coffee table. Warmth and sunlight streamed through the open patio, and the air smelled sweetly of vanilla and cinnamon. </p><p>Joe pressed a hand to his heart, so overwhelmed with love that he was physically unable to breathe for a few seconds. Looking back, he prided himself on being able to remain standing at all. It shouldn’t be humanly possible, he thought, to fully and truly embody perfection to the degree that his Nicolò did. Joe smiled at the irony - he sometimes forgot that the very basis of their existence itself wasn’t humanly possible.</p><p>Nicolina spotted Joe first, and ran excitedly off the end of the table in a wildly risky attempt to take flight. Nicky gasped and lunged after her, managing to catch her before she hit the floor. “Nicolina, what the-”</p><p>He looked at Joe, standing open-mouthed in the living room entrance, and smiled. “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”</p><p>“You’re beautiful,” Joe blurted out, like a thirteen-year-old talking to his crush. He frowned. Surely, Nicky’s current state of dress deserved something more poetic.</p><p>But Nicky’s smile only widened. “I’m so glad you like it, Joe. I have to confess, I had my doubts. But the look on your face convinces me I made the right decision.”</p><p>Joe opened his mouth to say, yes, yes this was absolutely the right decision, this might have been the best decision <em>ever</em> - but what really came out of his mouth was “Uh. Yeah. Can I, um. I really want to kiss you. If you want.”</p><p>Apparently, he would continue to be possessed by the ghost of an incoherent and besotted teenager for as long as Nicky was wearing this damn dress. Fortunately, Nicky seemed to find this endearing, laughing as he gently deposited Nicolina in his pocket - <em>omg, it has pockets!</em> - and walked up to Joe. He reached out to cradle Joe’s face in his hands, gazing at him like all the stars were in his eyes. Joe, who had just gotten out of bed and hadn’t even combed his hair, couldn’t imagine what Nicky was seeing, but the next moment, their lips were pressed together in a tender, blissful embrace, and every other thought in Joe’s head dissolved like salt in the ocean.</p><p>“Oh, I almost forgot!” Nicky exclaimed, pulling back all too soon. “I got one for you, too! It’s in a dress box under the bed. Would you be interested?”</p><p>Joe blinked as his brain caught up. “One for me?”</p><p>“Yes, and don’t worry, I picked something you’ll like. It’s not tacky or unfashionable, I promise-”</p><p>“I like everything you pick.”</p><p>“That’s not true, you didn’t like the t-shirt I wore two days ago-”</p><p>“I like everything you pick <em>for me</em>.”</p><p>Nicky paused, trying to find a counterexample. “Ah. I guess you do. Well, go try this one on, then! Let’s see.”</p><p>Five minutes later, when Joe hesitantly stepped out of their bedroom in his new dress, Nicky realized that he had vastly overestimated his own ability to remain a functioning member of society with Joe looking like <em>that</em>. Even Nicolina, now resting quietly on a bunched-up blanket on the couch, couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him.</p><p>“Well?” Joe asked, giving an experimental twirl that did nothing for Nicky’s screaming brain. “Does it look okay?”</p><p>Joe was wearing a knee-length deep teal sheath dress with a dribble of silver sequins spilling down one side like stardust. A shallow v-neck gave way to a sleeveless top, and the richly colored fabric fit snugly against his hips in a way that had not been nearly so breathtaking on the mannequin. Like Nicky’s own, this dress was simple, without excess print or decoration. Still, the way it looked on Joe as he stood there, smiling a little shyly in the late morning sunlight, left Nicky stunned.</p><p>He tried to speak around the sudden dryness in his mouth, but no sound came out. Rather, Nicolina chirped up first, quacking approvingly from her comfy spot on the couch. Joe grinned, crouching down next to the duckling.</p><p>“Aww, thank you, little one. At least <em>someone</em> has feedback for me.” Nicolina nuzzled her beak into his cheek affectionately.</p><p>Nicky sat back down on the couch and put his head in his hands. Joe glanced up.</p><p>“Nicky?” he asked, a little worried now. He walked over and sat down next to him. “<em>Amato</em>, is everything alright? Do you not like it? I can change back-”</p><p>“<em>Mashallah</em>, Yusuf,” Nicky said hoarsely, taking Joe’s hands in his. When he looked up, Joe was shocked to see tears glistening in his eyes. “It’s just - you are the most beautiful, wonderful, miraculous being that God has ever created, and I never forget this, but sometimes I am reminded anew and I just- I am left in awe of you, of your endless love and beauty.  I can’t handle any of this. You’re too handsome, too kind. I wish I had one hundred hearts to love you with.” He sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. </p><p>For the second time that day, Joe was rendered utterly speechless. On Nicky’s other side, Nicolina whimpered worriedly, climbing out of her blanket nest and nosing at his elbow. He chuckled wetly, reaching out to pet her.</p><p>“I’m fine, <em>piccolo mio</em>. Better than fine. Don’t worry.” To Joe, he said, “Sorry. I’m overreacting.”</p><p>“No,” Joe mumbled. He dropped his head to Nicky’s shoulder, reverently bringing their joined hands to his lips. “<em>Ti amo</em>, Nicolò. So much. Thank you.”</p><p>Nicolina clambered onto Nicky’s lap, snuggling close to him for warmth. Nicky caressed her downy feathers comfortingly. He turned and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Joe’s head. It had been a busy morning, and they still had big plans for the day, Nicky knew. A nice long walk in the park, visiting Nicolina’s pond, eating cake, maybe going out somewhere fancy for lunch or dinner (somewhere that allowed pets; he would have to google it). But for now, he allowed himself to just breathe, swathed in bone-deep contentment.</p><p>Over the course of the next month, they took Nicolina to the pond every single day. By week five, her feathers were growing out in earnest, and she could fly quite reliably. In week six, Nicky and Joe got comfortable leaving her at the pond unsupervised, using the time to run short errands before returning to pick her up. By week seven, Nicolina would stay out longer and longer, often loathe to leave the water even after the sun had set.</p><p>As week eight drew to a close, Nicky reminded Joe to pack an extra jacket for their trip to the pond. Nicolina ran ahead of them excitedly. The pond was always her favorite part of the day. After watching her splash about for a bit, Joe went for a walk around the park, and Nicky left to go grocery shopping for the upcoming week.</p><p>When Nicky returned, Joe was back on the bench in front of the pond. For a second, Nicky had a vivid flashback to the evening this all started - he’d been sitting in that very spot, worrying about Joe, when Nicolina had quite literally dropped into his life. He shook his head fondly at the memory.</p><p>“Joe?” He approached the bench. Joe looked up at him and smiled, patting the adjacent seat.</p><p>“How was groceries?”</p><p>“Ah. Nothing too remarkable. A lady spilled a gallon of milk in the aisle where we were waiting to pay, and then we all got distributed into different queues, so it took longer than usual.”</p><p>Joe clicked his tongue sympathetically. For the next couple hours, they sat mostly in silence, listening to the sounds of the evening and watching the last rays of sunlight fade from the surface of the pond. As it got dark, the park slowly emptied out, save for a few teenagers roasting marshmallows over a fire pit in the distance. </p><p>Nicky sighed deeply, holding his arm out to Joe. Joe scooted closer, wrapping his arms around Nicky’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder.</p><p>“She’s not coming back tonight, is she,” Joe whispered. Nicky squeezed his shoulder, pulling him closer.</p><p>“Got attached, Yusuf?”</p><p>Joe huffed. “Two months is nothing in the span of centuries, right? So why…” He trailed off, but Nicky heard what was left unspoken.</p><p>“The heart only knows how to live in the present, <em>hayati</em>. That is why it falls in love. That is why it cries when something ends. Even if we always knew it would.”</p><p>“You’re so composed - won’t you miss her?”</p><p>“I will. Terribly so. It just hasn’t sunk in yet, so I can offer you wisdom like a hypocrite.”</p><p>Joe smiled sadly. “When it sinks in, I’ll do the same for you.”</p><p>“I know, my love. My all.” After a few minutes, he said, “Give me that extra jacket.” Joe handed it to him, and Nicky shook it out, wrapping it like a blanket around Joe’s shoulders. “Lie down.” Joe lay his head in Nicky’s lap, stretching his feet out onto the bench. Nicky wove his fingers through Joe’s hair calmingly. “Alright?”</p><p>“Mhm. Nicky?”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Are we staying the night?”</p><p>“We can stay as long as you want.”<br/>
___</p><p>“The end,” Nicky said with a flourish. </p><p>“Wait, what?” Nile lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him incredulously. “What do you mean, the end? You never saw her again?”</p><p>“Of course we saw her again,” Joe answered from the floor. “We walked by the pond several times a week, and she would always swim over to say hi when she saw us. It was the sweetest thing.”</p><p>“About a month later,” Nicky picked up the narrative, “Booker got back from Germany and Andy from Portugal. We took a series of back-to-back missions after that, and didn’t get to return to Genoa until early spring.”</p><p>Joe’s phone buzzed on the counter, and he got up to go check it.</p><p>“Mhm, and then?” Nile prompted.</p><p>“Well, when we got back, we came by the pond to see if the ducks had returned to their northern habitats yet. As we stood by the water, one duck, a beautiful, white bird, swam gracefully up to us and nuzzled our ankles for a bit. She looked really happy to see us.”</p><p>“Oh my gosh - Nicolina?!”</p><p>Nicky smiled in confirmation. “Do you know, she had a mate? He was quite lovely, too. They made a good pair.”</p><p>“Wow,” Nile breathed. “That’s so awesome.”</p><p>“Guys, look at this.” Joe walked back to them, phone outstretched. “A message from Booker.”</p><p>Nicky took the phone, and Nile leaned over to see. On the screen was a photo of Andy curled up next to a Vietnamese woman that Nile had only ever seen before in her dreams. Quynh, she knew. Andy was fast asleep, and Quynh smiled serenely at the camera. Her eyes looked like she had been crying, but her happiness was evident, even in the hastily taken picture. The message beneath it read “they’re letting me stay the night,” followed by a tentative thumbs up and smiley face.</p><p>Nicky grinned. “Oh, God. I can’t wait to see her. And look at them - I told you, Joe.”</p><p>Joe leaned in for a quick kiss. “I never doubted it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, that was fun to write! It was supposed to be short, but what can you do - these things take on a life of their own. I hope everyone had a great time :)</p><p>The 'river of fire' poem referenced is by Urdu poet Jigar Moradabadi. The title is "Yeh Ishq Nahin Asan" (This Love is not Easy) if anyone is interested in reading the whole thing.</p><p>Comments and kudos appreciated as always! (but no pressure obviously &lt;3)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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